


Atlas

by Noscere



Series: Titans (RWBY) [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Character Study, F/M, Fall Maiden (RWBY), Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:11:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5762584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noscere/pseuds/Noscere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She may be a champion, the epitome of everything a Huntress should be. But her burdens weigh heavily on her shoulders, and Pyrrha Nikos is tired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Atlas

**Author's Note:**

> "I'm constantly surrounded by love and praise, but when you're placed on a pedestal like that for so long, you become separated from the people that put you there in the first place." - Pyrrha Nikos, Dance Dance Infiltration

“Of course you can. The Pyrrha Nikos I know would never back down from a challenge. And if you really believe it's your destiny to save the world... you can't let anything stand in your way.”

Pyrrha reels back. Her partner may be thick-headed, but he has none of Cardin's wanton cruelty. Jaune is good-hearted, his sincerity shines through his eyes as blue as windswept waves, he would never try to hurt her–

She tries to collect her thoughts. To her partner, the Maidens are just another bedtime story to soothe frightened children into sleep. But there is no waking from this nightmare: she stands on a precipice, and her burdens threaten to throw her into the abyss.

She loves him. This truth burns bright within her, coalescing around her soul like a warm blanket, wiping fear from her limbs. She could have her chance. She could be a normal teenage girl, in a modern day fairy tale. She could inscribe Jaune’s name in a cloud of hearts on the margins of her notes, and chat with Nora in the armory about boys and how they never notice, and that would be it. There would be no secretive, "you have to save the world on your own" burdens on her shoulders. If she takes on Amber’s power, will that all disappear? Will she cease to meet Nora for late night spars talks and Ren’s pancakes at 2 AM? Who will train Jaune – it’s unthinkable. No, he can’t get kicked out. She won’t lose her best friend. She won’t forget him, she won’t lose her mind to Amber–

_"There's no guarantee this transfer will work. And there's no telling if you will be the same person if it does. "_

The Headmaster's words rise unbidden to the front of her mind. Tears threaten to well up, but she pushes them back.

She is a warrior. She will fight. She won't forget.

Has Amber forgotten? Her breath seizes in her lungs. What if she remembers the attack that cost nearly cost the Maiden her life? Pyrrha draws a deep breath: she does not want to see herself dying– no, it will be Amber at the brink, Pyrrha is not yet the Maiden.

_Then why does it feel like I'm arranging my funeral_? Pyrrha wonders.

“Pyrrha?”

“Stop…” she wheezes. Her lungs ache for air, but her rapid breaths bring no relief. The autumn breeze pulls her under, dragging her towards the vault in the school’s belly. Pyrrha can already feel the burns lacing Amber’s face, the white bandages covering the Maiden’s chest. She covers her own face - no, the skin is still smooth and pristine, but for how long? Amber's attacker will surely hunt down the rest of her power. Pyrrha doesn't know if she can win. She can almost feel herself melting into that corpse-like woman below the earth. There was so much she wanted to do.

He comes closer. He taunts her with the promise of a future: she could have been his partner, she could have been someone loved and trusted. All she sees before her is a long, winding road, clutching a secret that no one else can know.

Jaune is close enough to touch. She can feel the pulse of his Aura, glowing hot in his veins. He feels like the sun on her face, banishing the autumn chill. He could be hers. He could be Amber's.

Something shatters.

“STOP!”

The warrior flings out an arm: whether to pull him in or push him away, she doesn’t know. She could kiss him. She could kill him. She craves more of him – his solid presence, his awkward honk of a laugh, the soft press of his hands.

Stone cracks and crumbles.

She looks up. Her heart seizes. Her partner's eyes are unfocused: soft, like a lamb watching a knife descending on its head. He looks woozy, a bit confused, just as if he had woken up from a long nap.

“Jaune! I’m…”

Tears leak from her eyes. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. He could have been her knight. He could have been her cheerleader. They were partners. Partners stuck together.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, before the sorrow and confusion swamp her and drag her down.

She needs room. She needs to run. She has fought for so long.

Jaune crashes to the ground.

Pyrrha darts off. She can faintly hear her name on the breath of the wind.

It doesn’t matter. She runs and runs, as tears stream down her cheeks and the despair chokes her until she can’t breathe.


End file.
